


Rock On! Pretty Cure!

by Kayocchi



Category: Original Work, プリキュア | PreCure | Pretty Cure Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-06 03:58:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17932427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayocchi/pseuds/Kayocchi
Summary: With the kingdom of Rebellia comes under attack by dark forces, it's up to the legendary warriors, the Pretty Cure, to bring back the creative freedom and spirit of rock n roll!





	1. Welcome to the Jungle!

A pair of teenagers relax on a shady bench. It's an early Summer afternoon, the sun peeks through the branches of the large oak and the wind provides comfortable relief from the heat outside. One of the teens, a girl, gazes down at the other teen, who is currently playing a game on some sort of game system, all while laying his head on the girl's lap. A small smile graces her glossed lips as she watches the boy quickly maneuver through the level of whatever game he plays. Looking closer, one could notice that the pair shares a set of earbuds, which are connected to the girls' phone on the bench next to her.

"You know, there's more to life than that tiny screen," she says, gently flicking the boys forehead. He seems unfazed by this, taking a hand off the joystick to wave dismissively. A few vague, fantasy noises play out of the speakers. The sound of two swords clashing starts for a second, before somebody lets out a strange noise. The boy looks immensely proud of himself, sporting a smug grin that is completely lost on the girl above him.

"It's summer vacation. We have plenty of time to enjoy the outdoors. Right now, it's a matter of me beating this level, and you turning this song up." She rolls her eyes, but obliges with the request anyway, but only after she reaches up to fix the bobby pin holding her bob in place. A small silver bracelet on her right hand jingles as she does this.

Now, one would expect some kind of cheesy pop song, or maybe a bit of smooth RnB to be heard out of the pair's earbuds during this glorious day. This is not the case. Blasting out of the speakers is Guns N Roses's Welcome to the Jungle, and the boy gives a fist pump to the air to acknowledge that he likes this song before returning to the game.

"You're so LAZY, Jackson! Can't even reach over and pick up the phone to turn the music up. How do I even deal with you?" Jackson shrugs, turning the game system off, leaning even more into the girl.

"It's because you, Lola Belle, are too nice for your own good. A goddess on this Earth. An absolute angel. Now, if you don't mind, would you please turn it up just onneee more notch? I still can't hear it" Another eye roll from Lola as she mutter something about video games and hearing loss and too loud. As soon as she starts to reach for the phone, a strange screech fills the air, sort of like a bow roughly being dragged across violin strings by an amateur player. It's rough and grating, but lasts only a second, and then it's gone.

The girl, Lola, reaches up to grab her head for a second, shielding herself from this terrible noise. Her head begins to thump with the signs of a headache setting in. Looking back down to the boy on her lap, however, he seems perfectly fine and perhaps a bit confused about why she is clutching at her head.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what? Guns N Roses? No, I didn't because you havn't turned it upppppp!"

Funny. He HAD to have heard that. It was way too loud and grating for him to have not. Or maybe it was just a sign that she was dehydrated, and a headache was on it's way. Yea, that was. She reaches down again, brings the volume up one more notch, and then her phone crashes. The screen goes black, the song cuts out, and Jackson lets out a pathetic whine.

"NOOOOOOOOO I said turn it up, not off! I take it back. Absolute devil woman. Bane of my existence."

"The phone just went dead. I didn't turn it off. Mind your manners! Also, you're eighteen, stop whining like a four year old." Lola shakes the phone, taps the screen, and it does nothing. It couldn't possibly be dead; it was on 78 percent battery just a minute ago. She tries the on button, and much to her delight, the phone turns on.

Something is really weird, though. Lola can't explain the strange pit in her stomach as it lights up, displaying her phone background (a photograph of a pink rose. Jackson had given it to her for her eighteenth birthday, along with tickets to Queen's national tour.)

For a split second, a strange logo flashes across the screen,- a music note and a conductor's baton?- and then it turns on. _Weird_ , Lola thinks, tapping back into her music player app. She gives it a glance, then a weird look, then a slightly disgusted face.

"What the hell?" She mutters. Her playlists had all been deleted, replaced by strange songs. She clicks one, and some very bad classical violin starts playing.

"Dying Cat isn't a rock band, Lol."

"I know I know give me a second I think somebody hacked my phone. My playlists are gone. Now it's just this weird classical by.... I can't even read who it's by it's just glitchy letters. Give me a second." A few taps on her phone, and Lola concludes that it did not just delete her playlists; it deleted the entire music store and replaced it with whatever she just heard.

"Yep. Hacked. I need a new one now I don't think I can survive for long without my music." Lola brings her head into her hands. "UGHHH what am I going to do my parents are going to kill me! I don't even know how this hack happened!" Jackson sits up, tucking a lock of peach colored hair behind Lola's ear.

"Did you download anything suspicious? Visit any shady sites?" Jackson questions, brows knit in confusion. Lola thinks back, not recalling anything, before shaking her head. She would never even think about it. Too risky.

"No. I didn't. This is bad, I need to get this fixed. ASAP." She stands up, smoothing down the gauzy white peasant top she's wearing and picking up her bag, which has some sort of music score sticking messily out of it's top. She pushes that down, the contents crinkling, as she hastily zips the entire thing closed. "You go home. If my parents ask, I'm at the... bakery? Yea, the bakery." Jackson stands up too, rolling his shoulders back before inhaling a few deep breaths.

"But our daaaattteeeeee..."

"What did I say? No whining. I'll make it up to you later."

"Will you ACTUALLY bring me a cupcake from the bakery, then?"

"Yea yea, if it buys your silence." She leans over, gives him a quick peck on the cheek, then walks in the direction of town. "I'll be back within the hour!" She calls over her shoulder.

~~~~~~

A strangely dressed figure stands on the clock tower in the town square. Dressed in an ornate peacock feather cape, with a blue three piece suit under, the man gives an unsettling smile to the town below. Nobody notices, of course. They would later. For now, he waits until the hour is right.

~~~~~~

"What a great way to start a summer vacation..." Lola mumbles to herself, hiking her bag higher up on her shoulder. She was so looking forward to today; a nice day out with Jackson, no responsibilities or cares in the world, and some nice, loud rock music.

She couldn't listen to it in school. Not anymore. So anytime she has to laze around and let the wailing guitars and powerful drums surround her was time she was going to take. Now look. A broken phone, a headache from whatever caused that horrendous noise, and the beating hot sun that made her wish she had slathered even more sunscreen onto her fair skin. Totally not how the first day of vacation should be spent.

As she makes her way into the bustling town of Soprana, Lola decides that "summer crowds" were on the list of things added to her "do not like" list. Kids splash around the town's huge fountain, while adults wait on line at the street vendors scattered around, selling ice cream and shaved ice. Laughter fills the air. Everything is completely normal, just as it was every day here. Normal and peaceful. Located a few miles outside the city, Soprana boasts suburbian country mere minutes from the biggest music hotspot in the world. Amateur artists from all over flock to Soprana for it's sheer proximity to Alto City, and thus, the town is covered in music influenced architecture and charm.

Lola isn't very excited right now, however. Crowds made her anxious, as any real attention did. That's why her parents did all the shopping around here. Sighing, she huddles slightly in on herself as she pushes her way through the crowd.

As she passes the old record store, a flash catches her eye in the window. Weird. The store had closed down months ago. She would know; she had spent long hours hand in hand with Jackson picking through every inch of the place. There had always been something new, whether it be a vintage vinyl, a new obscure 80's band she had never heard of, or even some signed guitar picks and other cool merchandise. She was devastated when it had closed; her own sanctuary in the middle of the bustling town. She did know that business hadn't really been booming for them, though, but to see it close had hurt. She inches close to the window. The lights are on. Weird.

Slowly, she approaches the door, grabs the handle to the entrance, and pulls. Miraculously, it swings open.

A cold blast of air hits her as she opens the door, and a few bells chime to let the employees, whoever they are, know a customer had arrived. Gingerly, Lola steps inside, looking around. It looks the same, only maybe a bit less dusty.

"Oh! Welcome! Feel free to browse!"  
A taller boy, maybe in his early 20s, steps out from behind a shelf. His hair is choppy and dyed black, and he wears an old Clash shirt. A pair of headphones dangles from his neck, and a singular black feather earring hangs from his right ear. Lola nods, stepping in to examine one of the records the boy had just put on a shelf. Appropriate. It's Guns N Roses.

"Are you a fan?" The boy asks. Lola eyes him up and down suspiciously before nodding.

"Y..yea. Where's Roger? I thought this place closed two months ago." She picks up the record to read the back track list.

"New ownership. That would be me. This place is too cool to see close down. Not that many fans these days; gotta preserve that old rock n roll spirit, you feel me?" Lola nods again, setting the record back.

"I get it completely. I'm just glad this place is back. Do you have any CD copies of this vinyl? I had the music on my phone, but listening to it there isn't really an option anymore." The boy looks startled for a moment, then curious.

"How so?"

"Weird virus. I think my phone was hacked. The whole store is nothing but some weird classical, and my playlists are gone. I was in town to get it fixed." The boy nods, then smiles.

"I don't have a CD copy, i'm sorry. Take this, though. It's a gift for being one of my first customers."

Lola reaches out. Deposited in her hand is a guitar pick. It's black and neon pink, surrounded in silver crystals with a large neon rose in the middle. The whole thing seems to shimmer as she holds it to the light.

"Thanks. This is cool...."

"Most call me Riff. Don't ask how I got the nickname, I don't know."

"Thanks, Riff. See you around." Lola waves as she heads back through the door, the sticky air hitting her again as it closes behind her. Behind, Riff returns to stacking vinyls, a large smile on his face.

~~~~~~

The clock in the middle of town strikes 12 as Lola exits the phone store with no real answer about her phone. Apparently, people had come to them within the past hour boasting the same problem; one they had no idea how to fix. This whole trip had been for naught.

Lola Belle does not like wasting time. And this whole day had been practically wasted. _Just think!_ , she tells herself, _If you would have just gotten your phone working again, you would still be on that bench, in the park, with your boyfriend. You would not be here, in the middle of town, with tears threatening to spill over. Pathetic._

As the twelfth bell tolls, however, The air grows quiet and cold. The band that had been performing on the street corner stops dead in the middle of a guitar solo. Lola shivers, eyeing her surroundings suspiciously. What had just happened? Everybody around town looks around, as if in panic, as the clouds part just slightly to form a sort of spotlight to the strange man on top of the clock tower. He dips into a bow as he addresses the whole town.

"GREETINGS SOPRANA! I, CONCERTO, AM HERE TO SPREAD THE MUSIC OF MY PEOPLE, AND RID YOUR PLANET OF ANY OTHER BLASPHEMOUS MUSIC! YOU HEARD IT HERE, LADIES AND GENTLEMAN! ROCK IS DEAD! NO MORE REBELLIOUS ATTITUDE, NO MORE HORRENDOUS NOISE! RELAX NOW, AND ENJOY THE SOOTHING MELODIES THAT WILL CHANGE YOU ALL FOREVER!"

The man bows again, and raised his arms. In his hand is a conductor's baton. As he lowers them, the same screeching noise from earlier starts to fade in, and everybody clasps their ears before falling to their knees. Men, women and children all drop like flies, seemingly oblivious to the world around them as they attempt and fail to shield themselves from this discordant onslaught.

The first few seconds, Lola shields herself from the noise. But then, it stops. A warm feeling starts to emanate from her pocket as she reaches in to remove the guitar pick he had been given not an hour earlier. It glows with a soft light, seemingly illuminating from within. The sight of it gives Lola some courage she never knew she had.

"Hey jerk!" she shouts from the top of her lungs. The man turns to face her, a confused look on his face.

"You, you are supposed to be listening to my music, girl. Why arn't you?" In a flash, the man has teleported mere inches from her face. Lola, pissed off from the horrendous day she has been having, gives it all right back.

"You did this? You ruined my phone, ruined my date, and now are ruining everyone else's day too? Really? What's WRONG with you, you absolute jerk!" The man seems taken aback as Lola pushes a finger into his chest and starts walking him backward, towards a wall.

"AND WHAT IS THIS ABOUT ROCK BEING DEAD?" She yells, making sure this man, whoever he is, absorbs the brunt of her message. "Rock and Roll isn't dead! Rock can't die! It's not a music, it's a LIFESTYLE! It's something that SAVED ME from my darkest hour! And now you're saying it's dead?!"

The sight of this small, peach haired girl in frilly clothing yelling at this strange peacock man must seem so silly to everyone else, Lola thinks for a split second, before finally feeling the fire inside her, this anger, this desire to protect this music that has given her her purpose, reach it's peak. A voice from somewhere in the distance yells out to her.

"Yell Pretty Cure, Rock On, and raise the pick!"

Lola does just that.

"PRETTY CURE, ROCK ON!"

In an instant, a blinding flash of light surrounds her body. She feels like she's on fire, but in a pleasant way, as her clothing seems to reform around her. A pleated leather skirt with pink tulle underneath replaces her peach colored shorts, a white crop top with rhinestone trim replaces her shirt. With a tugging motion, a leather vest adorned with a bow on the lapel and a few rose shaped patches appears over that. A rhinestoned leather choker appears on her neck, and matching bracelet cuffs appear on her wrists, which turn into finger less gloves. On her legs, bedazzled fishnet thigh high stockings and a pair of platform boots with a heart cut into the soles and a neon pink ribbon instead of laces. Her hair grows from it's bob, turning neon pink at the ends and a deep shade of black at the roots, restyling into two long, messy twintails with bows that match the one on the vest. Messy black glitter eyeliner and a shade of darker pink lipstick coats her lips, as the final touch, a chunky rhinestone belt decorated with a pink rose holding the guitar pick in the center, sits on her hips. She strikes a pose.

"Your favorite lead singer is here to break your heart again! Singing with a fiery passion, Cure Rock!"

As the light fades, Lola, no, Cure Rock, steps back for a second, admiring the new form. This gives the strange man time to teleport back onto the clock tower, shaking visibly in anger.

"HOW DARE A PRETTY CURE INTERRUPT MY CONCERT! GET HER, HARMONOID!" A black mist seems to seep out of his baton as he aims it at the drum kit the street band was using. In an instant, morphs from a drum kit into a large drum monster, with a drum major hat and everything.

"HARMONOID!" It bellows, beating it's body with the sticks in it's to cartoonishly large hands. Lola simply stands there, dumbfounded.

"Don't just stand there, Cure Rock! Get him!"

Lola turns around to see the boy, Riff, from the store earlier today. He seems to be... cheering her on? The drum monster lumbers forward and smashes one of it's sticks down onto Cure Rock, who, luckily, realized that her strength has been enhanced.

"What do I do?" she calls out to Riff, who shrugs.

"Kick it into next week?" he offers back. She does just that. She grabs the stick, launching the drum thing into the air, then leaps up with it. As she falls, she buries her heel into the head of it's drum body, smashing it into the ground with her newfound strength. Seeing it dazed on the ground, a new phrase finds it's way into her head.

"Pretty Cure, Passionate Anthem!" Cure Rock strikes a pose as she takes a deep breath, and lets out a riff. It's loud, but it's melodious and it rivals that of some of the old 80's big names. From this sound, waves start coming out of Cure Rock's mouth, surrounding the drum monster and purifying it. The clouds go away, the sun comes out, and the drum kit is back where it belongs.

"I'LL MAKE YOU LISTEN, YOU HORRENDOUS, NOISY, REBEL PRETTY CURE!" yells Concerto, disappearing.

As the townsfolk start to wake up from their delirious state, Cure Rock transforms back into simple Lola Belle with a puff of glitter. Riff runs up to her.

"THAT WAS AMAZING!" he muses, excited and jumpy. He looks like a super fan after a concert. "The way you just... beat that thing up with no issue! I knew Pretty Cure were strong but... I never knew they were THIS strong!"

Lola looks at him confused, then slightly peeved.  
"I want you to explain what just happened to me. And I want it to be explained to me now." Wow, Lola thinks, maybe this whole magic transformation thing is good for my confidence.

Riff nods excitedly, grabbing her arm and dragging her back to the shop.  
~~~~~~

In the town, the bell struck one.

~~~~~~

Jackson cards his fingers through his brown hair as he lays on his bed. Lola was supposed to be back an hour ago. A sick feeling makes his way to his stomach as he checks his phone again for any text messages. There's nothing. Sighing again, he picks up the game system and tries to focus on something else.

~~~~~


	2. Thunderstruck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new cure makes his appearance!

Lola checks the time on her watch again as Riff drones on next to her. He had locked the doors and closed up shop as soon as the fight had ended, not wanting any newly awake and terribly confused civilians wandering in and discovering this "incredibly secret and world changing" secret meeting. The words keep pouring out of his mouth, but Lola realizes that she just can't seem to absorb any of them as the strange man continues on and on. She still feels hot, and tingly, and confused in ways that are both amazing and terrible. Reaching into her pocket, she fingers the guitar pick that had glowed and transformed her into… pretty cure? Yes, that seemed to be the word. Looking up, it seems that Riff is looking at her expectantly, waiting for an answer to a question she didn't hear. 

 

"I am so sorry. I didn't hear a word of what you just said." Riff groans in exasperation, slamming his head into the desk in front of him. 

 

"For real? Not a thing?" Lola shakes her head. "All right, fine, I'll go over it for you again." He sits back up and throws himself into his story. 

 

"Many years ago, our kingdom of Rebellia, lead by Queen Mettalia, was a wonderful place to live. You couldn't go a street block without some sort of studio or recording house, all for the residents to explore rock n roll, the magic that made us all special. Though sometimes lax on rules, the kingdom was peaceful, and we all shared our passion for the music. It was the lifeblood that ran through our home." 

"However, one day, one of the court advisers approached our Queen. His name was Etude, and may I say, was awful. He started to go on about rules, and how she was not leading her people effectively, and how the music we played inspired evil things within the people that lived in Rebellia. Of course, our music and magic is our unique way of expressing ourselves, and though Queen Mettalia was okay with hearing another person's opinion on the matter, she did not like to be told that she was 'leading her people into darkness.' As such, Etude was terminated."

 

"Obviously, he was salty over the whole situation, and decided to take the fate of what he believed to be an evil planet into his own hands. Queen Mettalia, once a month, would perform a concert on the grand stage in front of the palace. Using the mythical instruments that were passed down from monarch to monarch, she would refill the rebellious and creative spirit of all the inhabitants of Rebellia. Etude hijacked the concert, using his newly forged weapon to perform a song of his own; one that would strip us of our individuality and spirit, and thus, defeat whatever evil he thought we had inside of us. We don't know where he got the power or the weapon, but what we do know is that he transformed from an average joe into an incredible threat overnight. Mettalia tried to fight back with her own song, but she was overcome. The instruments, while effective in her and her predecessors hands, were meant to be wielded by the legendary warriors of which our kingdom's stories told of. Warriors that would embody everything we stood for, and would fight to protect it. "

 

"I was also one of the Queen's advisers; her roadies, as she would call us. Using the instruments after being overcome, she opened up a portal into the unknown, where she threw the instruments into and then pushed me through, telling me to find the Pretty Cure, the legendary warriors, who would restore the planet to its former glory. She succumbed to the song as I fell through." 

 

"I swore I would find these Pretty Cure, to restore my home and everything I stand for. I need to save them, and I need your help to do it." Riff looks at Lola, determined. 

 

"Will you help me save my kingdom?"  Lola blinks a few times, processing the information. Magic? Another planet? It seemed impossible, but she had just transformed into one of the warriors that Riff had described. And with that came obligation. 

 

"Of course I will."

~~~~~~

Jackson had thrown on a hoodie and ran out the door in a frenzy. A strange attack in the town? Where Lola was? Her not returning home for hours? Surely she would have texted that she was okay… but the texts sent to her remained unread. He's running frantically towards the town, ignoring the looks of the old couple out for a walk. He yells a quick sorry over his shoulder as he runs… and collides with someone. 

"OOF!" he exclaims, falling onto his back. And as he looks up, there she is. 

 

"Why were you running? And why aren't you home? I got your cupcake." Lola waves the brightly colored bag in front of his face like it's some sort of reward. His face contorts into one of worry.  

 

"You had me worried sick!" She looks at him, confused. 

 

"What do you mean? I was only gone for…" 

 

It seems like she has just noticed the time as a look of embarrassment crosses her face.  "Oh my god. I am so sorry, J, the lines at the stores were so long…" 

 

She isn't expecting him to pull her into a hug, which he does, much to her surprise. 

 

"An attack. Some strange headaches. Nobody remembers exactly what happened… did you get caught in it? Are you okay?" He rambles on until she shushes him. The two are still splayed out on the sidewalk, as the old people from earlier pass and give the teens a disgruntled look. 

 

"Yes. I'm fine, I'm all good. Calm down. It's late. Aren't your parents worried about you bolting out of the house like that? Also, god Jackson, be careful! You know you can't breathe all that well… and here you are 100 meter dashing down the street." Lola doesn't seem mad, but she does seem taken aback and worried. They continue their embrace in the middle of the sidewalk as the sum starts to lower in the sky. The clock, which shimes somewhere far away, says that it is approximately 6 pm, hours after Lola said that she would return. That… wasn't good. 

 

"Lol, please go home. Your parents are probably blowing a gasket right now searching for you. Knowing them, they probably already have the SWAT team on your case." She laughs halfheartedly, pulling herself up then offering a hand out to Jackson, who takes it and pulls himself up in a similar manner. The two gaze at each other before walking off, hand in hand. 

 

A few birds chirp overhead as they find their way home to make way for the fireflies. The sun casts an orange glow over the lands below, though it itself shines in shades of red, gold and purple. Though the concern for time had been serious on Jackson's part, it seems as though the pair would rather spend this time walking together as they are now. 

 

They eventually stop next to two houses, reluctantly. 

 

One is smaller, with modest landscaping and a minivan in the driveway. There's lights on inside, and it feels warm looking at it. The other is a mini mansion in a place a mini mansion should not be. It is cold and distant, though modern in decor. Some sort of fancy sports car sits pristine in the driveway. 

 

"This is my stop." Lola says, giving the bigger house a sour look. He knew she would rather be anywhere but there now, though sometimes it's a necessary evil. 

 

"Mine too." There's a moment of shared silence before Jackson leans over and kisses the other on the cheek before waving and walking up the path to the smaller house. Lola takes a second before walking up the the bigger one. The air is still hot and sticky, as it was hours ago, only the promise of a cool night is on the horizon. 

~~~~~~

 

It is one a.m., and Jackson Harris has not gotten an ounce of sleep. A cool night breeze filters in through the open bedroom window, as does a few slivers of moonlight. It is silent. It is unnerving. 

 

He sits up in bed and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror hanging above the dresser across from his bed. His dark hair is messy, as if he's been tossing and turning, (accurate), and his light green eyes, well, the one eye that's uncovered by his unkempt bangs, have bags under them as if he hasn't gotten an ounce of sleep (also accurate). A sigh passes through his lips as he quietly exits the bed and pulls on a large sweatshirt. 

 

A midnight walk to clear his head. Those always seemed to work for him, even in his younger middle school years. Cool air helps him think better, and after the shock he went through tonight with Lola and her shifty behaviour, he did really need to stop and think for a few moments. 

 

Grateful he lives on the ground floor, he exits through the window and into the night air. 

~~~~~

The streets are quiet as he walks. His impulses have him walking to his usual spot; the park in the middle of town. Most people these days hang out in the town square, especially with the MidSummer Rock Fest approaching. Every band and artist in Soprana was striving for their chance at getting noticed; to get out of this town and into the big city with a big label and big money.

 

He continues to contemplate this as he walks. 

 

It doesn't take him long, much to his chagrin, to get to the park and sit down on the bench he had occupied with Lola yesterday. Finally, a reprieve. Maybe some inspiration would strike; a new chord or two to test out later when it wasn't midnight on a Tuesday.  Breathing deeply, he closes his eyes….

 

"Rough day?" 

 

Looking over to his left, a boy with dyed black hair and a singular feather earring makes himself comfortable on the bench. God dammit. There goes his peace and quiet, given to some stranger with a really cool ACDC shirt. He would have to ask where he got it from.

"I'm fine."

 

"You don't look fine."

 

"It's none of your business." The black haired boy thinks for a second. 

 

"Girl troubles?" Jackson winces a bit, and the other shoots him a look.  _ Bingo.  _ Resigning himself to now having a talk with this stranger, Jackson sighs. There goes any inspiration he might have had. 

 

"Girlfriend got caught up in that attack earlier today in town. Was worried sick all day. Tried some guitar practice, then some really loud music, but I couldn't help but feeling sick all day." The other's eyebrows raise. 

 

"Loud music?" He really didn't want to get into this with somebody he just met, especially not looking like a disheveled mess in the middle of the night. Seriously, the lightning bolt pattern pajama pants weren't doing him any favors. Something in the back of his mind, however, kept him talking about all his personal, private life problems to this absolute stranger. 

 

"Rock always calms me down. Seems like it would be the opposite, but y'know. Maybe i'm just weird."  The other chuckles, gesturing to his (really cool) shirt. 

 

"No no, I feel you. Rock N Roll speaks to the soul, as they say." 

 

"Definitely." The two share a friendly smile before Jackson reaches down to pull at the strings of his hoodie, the worry creeping back up into his face. Maybe this stranger was cooler than he thought. He didn't seem to be much older than Jackson himself, so the thought of that was a bit comforting. 

 

"I also get the thing about protecting and being worried about those you care about. It's important." The black hair boy thinks for a second, then a look of realization crosses his face for a second. "Take this. It's a lucky charm. I guarantee it'll help you with that protection thing." 

 

A guitar pick is deposited into Jackson's hand. It's black, surrounded by silver studs. A blue lightning bolt is imprinted in the center. The whole thing seems to shimmer. It's an odd present, though maybe the other picked up on his "playing guitar" statement earlier in this conversation. It didn't seem shady, though, so he accepts the present. 

 

"Thanks…"

 

"Riff. I own the local record store now." he shrugs. "You should stop by sometime. I've got the place cleaned up." 

 

Lola used to take him to the store all the time, before it closed two months ago. She would be thrilled it was open again. His fist closes around the pick. 

 

"Riff. I owe ya one. See ya around." 

 

Feeling much better somehow, Jackson gets up and starts to walk back to his house. Still on the bench, Riff smiles a knowing smile. Yep. That would definitely help him protect that girl of his. 

 

~~~~~~

He decides that Lola didn't need to know about the strange encounter he had yesterday, even though it brought him some of the peace of mind that he needed. The two had met up at about noon, intending on going into the city, but the sticky heat (even worse than yesterday, Jackson internally sobs,) stopped them in their tracks. She, of course, had grilled him about wearing a hoodie on this hot of a day, but he had quickly shot the thought down and redirected to how they were going to deal with this horrendous heat. After loudly protesting about how hot it was outside for the 17th time, they had mutually agreed ice cream was in order. 

 

Little Licks Ice Cream is located on the Crescendo Lake, the town's man made watering hole. Closed during the winter; it's annual opening week event attracted practically everybody in Soprana, and even people from Alto City. Small, with white and teal striped accents, the place stands out as somewhere somebody had to experience once in their lives. Of course, the pair had decided that this was the place to cool down with a frosty treat. They had waited over half an hour to make it up to the counter, gotten their respective cones, then found a shady place under one of the huge umbrellas Little Licks had set up for customer seating. From there, the pair views the playground where the primary schoolers hang out, and even the time plaza area a bit off in the distance, obscured by a tree or two. According to Lola, the plaza itself has a huge fountain, as well as a performance space for the Live Band Sunday event. It also has this amazing cotton candy cart that Lola raves about as they spend their afternoon together. 

  
  


In the current moment, Lola leans over to attempt to take a lick of his melting ice cream, which he obliges to. 

 

"How'd your parents react to your late arrival home?" 

 

Lola's face goes sour. Right. Touchy subject. 

 

"I don't even want to think about it now. I just want to think about how awesome this Black Cherry is and the fact that I am not at home right now." Another lick, and her face contorts again. "Brainfreeze!" 

 

He chuckles at her, and she swats him in the arm. He takes another bite of his cone; Devil's Food Cake. He's an absolute sucker for chocolate. 

 

It's better under the umbrella, Jackson thinks, grateful Lola didn't force him to go into the city today. He feels sorry for all the people who are stuck in the sticky heat. He was more a fan of the Fall and Winter seasons himself. 

 

Then, it hits him out of nowhere. 

 

At first, he thinks it's a brain freeze. But the loud, grating sound in his head seems to be effecting only him as his ice cream falls and both his hands reach up to grab his head for some sort of relief. None comes. 

 

"What's the matter?" Lola says, panicked. 

 

As soon as it comes, it's over. He's absolutely dazed. 

 

"I… I have no clue. I'm fine now though. Don't worry." 

From a distance, a loud cackling is heard. Lola seems to tense up, seemingly recognizing the cackle, before launching to her feet. She hands the rest of her cone to Jackson in a sudden motion that almost makes him drop the whole thing. 

 

"I'll be back. I need to go to the bathroom. You.. stay here."

 

Before he can ask why, Lola is gone. Great. Now she's acting weird. He reaches into his pocket to grab at the lucky charm he was given the night before, before pulling his hand away. It's like touching an ice cube! Strange. 

 

He restrains himself for a few minutes, and then a few more, before getting up and following the path Lola had taken. 

 

~~~~~~

 

Of course, it was this guy again. 

 

Standing on the plaza fountain, black clouds that part for the singular spotlight, same as yesterday. The people on the ground holding their heads. Carbon copy. Almost. 

 

From her vantage point behind a wall, she can view a large trumpet monster traipsing through the park and harassing the innocent people on the ground. Absolutely not acceptable. A disgust turns to fire in the pit of her stomach. Lola fishes for the pick in her pocket, now knowing what to do after yesterday's incident. Before she can take it out, however…

 

"Lola? What… what's going on?" 

 

Jackson is next to her, glancing at her worriedly. A look of concern crosses his face as he looks at her, and then, the horrible noise hits him, which is exactly why she had told him to stay at the table, out of earshot! He starts to crumple towards the ground as the others in the park are, and she can do nothing about it. 

 

"Lola, why???? Why are you acting so strange?" He cries as he holds his head. She looks to him, then the peacock guy who is doing pirouettes on the fountain, then the trumpet monster. The feeling in her stomach reaches its peak, bursting into flames. 

 

"Don't worry. I'm going to save you. Trust me. Please trust me." She gives him a hesitant smile as she pulls out the pick and holds it out. 

 

"PRETTY CURE! ROCK ON!" 

 

In  flash, the Lola Jackson knows is gone, replaced with a pretty girl in a leather outfit. She stands tall in a pair of platform boots, and even with the cute ponytails, you could tell she was dangerous and hellbent. 

 

" Your favorite lead singer is here to break your heart again! Singing with a fiery passion, Cure Rock!" She strikes a pose, looks back at him, blows him a kiss, then rushes into the fray. 

 

He continues to crumple to the ground, only his sheer resolve keeping him from fully succumbing to the noise. It's painful… it hurts… but knowing that Lola was out there terrified him. He doesn't even question how she had just done.. Whatever she had done, he just knows that she's the same Lola he grew up with. He had to protect her…

 

He watches as the trumpet monster grabs onto Lola… Cure Rock's leg and slams her into the ground. There's a large indent in the earth as dust flies up. She breathes heavily, coughing, as the monster looms over her… ready to stomp on her… and something snaps. 

 

He can't hear the music anymore as he runs, faster than he ever has, to her side. She looks worse for wear as she calls out to him.  _ What are you doing? You're going to get hurt!!!  _ But Jackson can't hear her now. An icy look crosses his face, and starts to form in his stomach.  This.. thing… had hurt her. And it was going to pay. 

 

He knew what to do. Fishing out the pick, he raises it, just as she had done minutes ago. And from the bottom of his lungs, he shouts.

 

"PRETTY CURE! ROCK ON!"

 

In a flash, the air turns electric, crackling with energy. He's engulfed by this light as he starts to change. White tank top, leather vest sporting a chain epaulette on his right shoulder and blue edging on the collar. A pair of ripped pants adorn his legs, and a pair of combat style boots appear on his feet, tied with blue laces. A pair of studded fingerless gloves appear on his hands, and a striped tie wraps itself around his neck. In a flash, his hair lengthens and darkens to black with bright blue tips, reforming into a small ponytail in the back of his head. His bangs push away from his boyish face, revealing the beauty mark under his right eye that is usually covered by them. Eyes shift from light green to bright blue, and finally, a large studded belt appears on his waist. The pick is hanging from one of the many chains decorating the belt. Striking a pose, the new cure looks icily up at the thing attacking, lightning seemingly crackling around him. 

 

"Are you all ready for a show? Your lead guitarist is here to give you just that! Cure Roll!" 

 

Before the monster and the strange man could process exactly what had happened, Cure Roll uppercuts the monster, then with clasped hands brings both his fists down on its approximate head area. He is absolutely furious, and in the moment, he doesn't care who the man and monster are; just that they hurt her. 

 

Before he can fully be consumed by this icy feeling, a voice calls out. 

 

"Cure Roll!" calls Cure Rock, cracking her knuckles and running up to him. There she is, radiant and lovely, even if she's covered with dirt and looks like an absolute rock star. The ice melts for a second as his expression softens. The pair share a look, then turn back to the threat. 

 

"You want to hurt her? You have to go through me first." 

 

"That's right, bitchboy!" Cure Rock mocks, and she sticks her tongue out at both the peacock man and monster. With a nod, the two launch themselves at the trumpet, landing a punch and a kick respectively to each side of its monstrous bell shaped head. A ringing sound emanates as the thing stumbles backwards, dazed. 

 

"Would you like to do the honors today, Cure Roll?" Cure Rock calls, clearly amused as she lands back on the ground, crosses her arms, and looks up at the other expectantly. He gives her a thumbs up before looking back at the monster.  The words come to him in a heartbeat. 

 

"Precure! Resoundant Breakdown!" 

 

Pulling the pick off the chain, the blue Cure mimes a guitar solo. Waves of light shoot out of where the air guitar is, barreling towards the monster. In a puff of pyrotechnics, the thing is purified. Cure Roll breathes an audible sigh of relief as Rock comes running up to him. 

 

"THAT WAS AWESOME!!!!" she yells, grinning like the sun. Then she squeezes him tighter, stops, and looks up at him. 

 

"Wait… is the transformation… thorough?"

 

"What do you mean? Was YOURS 'thorough?'" He puts air quotes around thorough, then reaches over to flick her on the forehead, which she recoils from.

 

"Of course it was, dummy! I was just asking if it worked like mine did. Is it the same for us?" His eyes widen as the same bright smile crosses his face. 

 

"I mean… probably? Even though i'm wayyyy cooler than you are now. Damn look at me i'm so cool!" He laughs brightly, swinging Cure Roll up into the air, still entrapped in her hug. The mood is ruined by an angry cry. 

 

"TWO? TWO OF THEM? YOU'RE KIDDING ME!!! JUST THE PINK ONE YESTERDAY WAS A HANDFUL, NOW THERE'S A BLUE ONE!?" The gaudily dressed man screeches and disappears, leaving Cure Roll to turn to Cure Rock. 

 

"That's Concerto. He's mean, he was responsible for yesterday where I solo kicked him to the curb. I've decided that he's a whiny man child." At those words, Cure Roll bursts into laughter. The pair make their way to a secluded area of shady trees before de-transforming. "Anyway, i'll fill you in on everything as we finish our ice cream!" 

 

Jackson's face drops. 

"Wait, you HONESTLY thought I was going to hold your ice cream while I punched a gigantic trumpet in the side of the head?" 

 

"I'm kidding!" Lola laughs. "We can get NEW ice cream THEN i'll fill you in!" 

 

Jackson groans, but a smile finds a way onto his face as he's tugged away by Lola. Well, this was the start of something fun. 

~~~~~~

 


End file.
